


A conversation during the end of the world

by merperson1



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, martin gets to say fuck much more often than in canon, no! plot! just! feelings!, set some vague time in season 5 idk when, yall want two idiots in love just fuckin. talkin to each other? then have i got the fic for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24335968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merperson1/pseuds/merperson1
Summary: this was finished at 5:30 in the morning while listening to too much carly rae jepsen do with it what you will
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 7
Kudos: 68





	A conversation during the end of the world

**Author's Note:**

> this was finished at 5:30 in the morning while listening to too much carly rae jepsen do with it what you will

They had walked the past twenty minutes in silence, the apocalypse a constant barrage of information to try and process for both of them. Martin broke through the contemplative air with an “I..”, but quickly abandoned whatever he had been about to say. Jon turned his face towards him, giving an encouraging, “Hm?

With the hand that wasn’t holding onto Jon’s, Martin waved him off, telling him, “Sorry, it’s..it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Voice somewhere between fond and admonishing, Jon replied, “ _Martin._ What’s going on? _”_

“Well. it’s just….,” Martin trailed off, breaking eye contact in favor of staring at the looming tower in the distance, before continuing, “ It’s just that we’re marching ever on towards the panopticon, and when we actually get there, whatever’s waiting is probably going to kill us, right?”

Jon dropped his eyes from Martin’s face, letting out a sigh as he conceded, “There’s..a distinct possibility that will be the case, yes.”

“You know, part of me has accepted that? Okay, yeah, I’m hoping we get to, uh, save the world and kill Elias and all that before we go out, a real “rage rage against the dying of the light” type thing, but the _finality_ of isn’t lost on me. And, alright, it’s kind of fine, because, personally, this is, what, the third? fourth? time I was pretty certain of my imminent death, I’m somewhat used to it. I mean, sure, it’s the end times and there’s a big spooky eye in the sky, but honestly, I’m still preferring this to being eaten alive by worms alone in my apartment. Living four years longer than expected isn’t half bad.”

“So you wanted to discuss..being okay with your own death? Because if you’re looking for my input, I am _far_ from okay with your death.”

“No! Or, sort of? More of the opposite? What I’m _trying_ to say is yes, logically, I’m not making it to my 33rd birthday, but hey, never thought I would make it to my 30s in general, so that’s cool. But, _but,_ does anyone really react logically to the concept of their own death? ‘Cause the thing is, I don’t _care_ about the logistics of it, it still sucks, because I-I’ve never wanted a future so _fucking_ badly as I do now. God, Jon, do you have any _idea_ how much I want us to get non-evil day jobs and a shitty flat and an irresponsible number of cats with names like ‘Lieutenant Snuggles’ and ‘The Brigadier’? How despondent I am that we don’t get to host game nights with our friends and pick up new hobbies and maybe scrape together to go on a two week trip somewhere new during the summers? How _angry_ I am that we’ll never get to watch a new movie or have a nice stroll through the park or get married or do _anything_ that isn’t a crusade against fucking fear gods because some 200 year old body hopping asshole had to go and ruin things for everyone!”

“Of course I know all of that.”

“Because of th-”

“ _Because,”_ Jon interrupted, then paused in order to raise their interlocked hands and press a kiss to the back of Martin’s, “I feel the same way. Martin, if there was _any_ way that I could give that to you-”

A hint of color spread across Martin’s cheeks, as it always does when Jon’s voice goes soft. Even if they had decades to spend together, Martin doubts he’d ever get used to it. His shoulders slumped slightly, the energy of the rant swiftly leaving him. “I know, I know, I just.”

Martin let out a puff of breath, then continued, “I just am going to garrote Elias with the laces of his own stupid fucking wingtips.”

That startled a laugh out of Jon that carried over to his voice as he replied, “I’ll help hold him down.”

Martin was smiling now, which seemed to the default when Jon was at his side. “Thank you for assisting me in my fantasy murder.”

“Well, we’ve got to keep the spark alive somehow, right?”

“Right.”

They were quiet for a few moments, continuing their walk, before Jon spoke up again. “I know it’s not the same, but we might.. we might get to give that kind of future back to the rest of the world and that’s. That’s still good, isn’t it?”

Martin’s smile went a bit tighter, but he gave a nod and said, “Yeah. Yeah it is. I mean, wouldn’t really be making our way to the eyeball turret if it wasn’t.”

“I’m not sure it technically qualifies as a _turret-”_

“ _Plus_ , for all of my whinging on about the future, I’m actually incredibly grateful for the now. Despite the, you know, everything, I get to hold your hand and hear your laugh and tell you that I love you _whenever_ I want and all of that’s, um, pretty great in my book.”

It was Jon’s turn to be flustered, as neither one of them had any idea what to do with positive attention. “I’m, um, I’m glad to be with you, too.”

There’s was a beat, then Jon added, “here at the end of all things.”

A broad grin broke out on Martin’s features as he giddily asked, “Was that a _popular culture_ reference? I’m so proud!”

Jon took his hand from Martin’s in order to give the man a light shove, before immediately taking the hand back. The smile never left his face as he stated, “Shut up Martin.”

“No really! Quoting a movie that isn’t narrated by David Attenborough, you’ve grown so much!”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, the old man likes nature documentaries and doesn’t know what a meme is, we get it.”

He would’ve folded his arms, but that would’ve meant letting go of Martin’s hand for longer than a few seconds, which was unacceptable even when he was being _ruthlessly and viciously mocked_ by his partner. Martin laughed _at_ him, because he’s _cruel,_ before swooping in to kiss Jon’s cheek. “And you say you’ve never been adorable.”

Their future was uncertain, and likely doomed. It was doubtful that everything was going to turn out well for them. For the moment, however, they got to be okay, and just maybe that would be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> my cat came and forced her way onto my lap while I was trying to post this that's not related to the fic I just thought y'all might like to know that


End file.
